


Show Some Respect

by purgeofthoughts



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Alaric Saltzman, Protective Damon Salvatore, Sassy Damon Salvatore, Teacher Alaric Saltzman, Vampires, bloodsharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgeofthoughts/pseuds/purgeofthoughts
Summary: Damon Salvatore teaches you what it really means to be a vampire.
Relationships: Alaric Saltzman/You, Damon Salvatore/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	1. Leather and Bourbon

**Author's Note:**

> Blood drinking at the end of the chapter for your enjoyment :)

All you wanted to do was have one drink. Just one god damn drink.

You pulled up to your usual bar, slamming your car door just as it started pouring down rain. _Perfect,_ you thought as you trudged over to the main entrance, not even caring about your soaked hair. After the day you had, you just really, _really_ needed that drink.

The door creaked open to a dimly lit bar, half-filled with drunk locals, and half with college kids playing an overly competitive game of pool – a typical Tuesday night.

As you stepped inside, your boot immediately caught on the hem of your jacket. It was floor-length and a very common occurrence, yet is surprised you every time for some reason.

You let out an aggravated sigh and cursed under your breath as you snagged the fabric out from under your heel. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The motion was a bit more aggressive than you realized, and you suddenly felt yourself losing your balance with your fall being broken only by a dark leather figure. Dark liquid immediately poured onto the floor, followed by a heavy cloud of a sharp men’s cologne punching your nose.

“Excuse you,” a voice said.

You looked up to find two furrowed brows arched over a pair of piercing blue eyes. He was an unfamiliar man who looked thoroughly pissed that his drink had just been spilled in front of him—rightfully so. Opening your mouth to apologize, he spoke first, not hesitating to interrupt. 

“Do you see this?” He cocked his head arrogantly, pointing at his sleek leather jacket. Your eyes hardened as you sheepishly nodded. “This is John Varvatos,” he scoffed, “show some respect.”

You suddenly felt the guilt lift as his smug tone rang in your ear. He locked eyes with you, almost amused as he awaited your response. His eye contact was unwavering. _Who the hell did this guy think he was?_

“And I’m supposed to care?” you folded my arms, giving him a judging look up and down. You didn’t have time for this.

Taking a step a little too close to you, he leaned down, bringing himself mere inches from your nose. His lips folded into a deep smirk, curling up on the right side of his face, and your breathing halted as his intoxicating aroma became more powerful with each move.

“Guess the next drink is on you then, huh?” He winked sarcastically before pushing past you.

You felt yourself wanting to look back, but chose to let it go. You had been coming to this bar since before you could even drink legally. You knew every local and their families, it was clear from his expensive clothing he was from out of town.

Hopefully someone you wouldn’t have to see again.

Reminding yourself why you were here, you searched for an empty seat. Spotting a small pub table in the corner, you started my way over when a familiar face stopped you at the bar. Alaric Saltzman, your favorite professor.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you approached him. Technically students weren’t supposed to spend time with their instructors outside of class, but neither of you seemed to care much about rules. This wasn’t the first time you’d run into him here and you were certain it wouldn’t be the last.

“Why hello Mr. Saltzman,” you said jokingly, popping out from behind him. He turned from his half drank glass of bourbon and smiled.

“Why hello there, Y/N,” He echoed, chuckling at the circumstances.

Almost immediately, Alaric pulled out the stool next to him and patted it. “Hurry up and sit before someone outs me,” he joked, taking a swig of his drink. “You look like shit, lets get you one of these.”

“Oh no, buddy, she owes _us_ one first,” you heard an annoyingly familiar voice say. There he was again, Leather Jacket Guy from out of nowhere, his presence dark and dominating. 

You pretended to ignore him, trying to focus your attention on Alaric.

“Yeah today was kind of a bad work day, _and_ on top of that I have a paper to write. So thank you for that,” you said sarcastically, forcing yourself not to look up at mystery guy. You could feel his eyes on you with every membrane of you body.

“Damn, whoever assigned that should be fired,” Alaric pulled out the stool some more, “but I’m _pretty_ sure he can give you an A.”

You smiled, already feeling better about your stressful day.

“That’s my seat.”

There he was again, only this time on the other side of you. His head tilted down once more, forcing you to lock eyes with him, never breaking his gaze. He was proving to be frustratingly good at that. You swallowed nervously and said, “You’re not from around here are you?”

He sighed, calmly stretching his arm around your shoulders. The weight of his muscles made your knees start to buckle. Leaning in he smirked, “I’m Damon. That’s all you need to know.”

You stared at his cocky expression, his face only inches away from yours once more. You wanted desperately to look away, but something about him intrigued you. It was almost a feeling of fear that was oddly satisfying.

“Well Damon,” you managed to mutter, “I’m done wasting time with you tonight. Alaric, it was nice running into you,” You muttered abruptly as you quickly got up and walked straight over to the table you spotted moments earlier. You didn’t wait for Alaric’s response. It was if something told you that if you sat by Damon a moment longer, you would never be able to escape the magnetism of his presence.

* * *

An hour and a half later, and three beers in, you glanced around the room hoping to people watch. As your eyes made their way around the almost empty joint, they stopped suddenly at the bar. There was Damon. Looking at you _again_. Alaric was still talking to him, oblivious to the fact that his eyes were escaping his attention. He was twisting his body slightly, catching your gaze like it was a secret.

You quickly turned your head away, pretending to focus on your phone. Seconds later you found yourself peeking over, wondering if it was all in your head. But he was gone.

“I just realized I never caught _your_ name,” Damon was now sitting next to you, scooting his seat closer to yours. His thigh slightly brushed against yours under the table.

Your mind went blank. _How did he get over here so fast?_

“It’s Y/N,” you nervously replied. “How many times can I tell you to leave me alone?”

“Maybe I don’t want to leave you alone.” He took a large gulp from his bourbon, almost finishing it whole, amused at your discomfort.

You sat still, unsure of how you should act. He made you feel uneasy, but you couldn’t stop thinking about his leg that was very much still brushed against yours, arching closer with every word that was spoken.

“I’ve had a really bad day today, okay? I don’t really want to deal with this right now.”

“Let me guess,” Damon leaned back in his seat, “you got in trouble for trying to finish your paper during your shift.”

You furrowed your brow in disbelief, knowing that was exactly what happened. “Actually yes. How would you know that?”

He grinned, his lips forming that trademark smirk, “Because I’ve been watching you.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned over, realizing he was full of shit.

“Or because you just heard me bitch about it to Alaric.”

His eyes softened, and a look of curiosity grazed over his previous smug demeanor. You felt your heart start to quicken as you watched his hand lift from under the table and towards your face. His soft fingers started to graze your cheek, slowly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His expression remained calming and safe.

“No. Because I’ve been watching you,” he repeated.

You swallowed hard, paralyzed by his touch. The cold metal of his gaudy blue ring delicately ran across your skin while he slowly pulled his hand back to his side. His eyes continued to lock with yours, the crystal blue making your body tingle.

“Want to go for a ride?” He asked, suddenly back to his old self. You nodded, in what felt like a very unconscious decision, and followed him out the doors and into the empty parking lot in one unsure motion. 

“Wait,” you said. He turned to you, seeming amused you would over object him.

You slowly held out your wrist, “you said I owed you a drink.”

Damon’s eyes flickered in the darkness of the empty lot. Nervous energy filled the air, while the silence pricked at your skin like a knife.

“What do you _think_ you know?” Damon demanded, twisting his body around, daring you to answer. Your wrist stayed in place, and your voice steadied, “Alaric teaches _occult_ studies, Damon.” He didn’t say anything, his eyes keeping perfectly steady.

“I noticed how fast you were in the bar,” You kept your gaze at him, “and you’re obviously not from around here. It was an educated guess, but by the way you’re acting...it's clear I’m right.” You took a deep breath, and steadied your voice, “You’re a vampire.”

Damon’s right eyebrow arched as he looked at you with intense amusement. He carefully walked over to you, his eyes seducing yours with every step. You could tell he was almost impressed. 

“Well?” You asked, leaning your wrist forward.

You were always fascinated with the occult, taking every class Alaric offered. You would never have dreamed that you would _actually_ see something like this in real life, and didn’t want your fear to overcome your sense of curiosity. Something inside of you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be fed on.

Damon broke your gaze, only to focus it on the delicate skin on your inner wrist. Lifting it up with one hand, he used the other to carefully stroke your forearm back and forth. His breath lightly hovered over your veins as he leaned his mouth down, almost admiring the piece of flesh before having his way with it.

Heart stammering, you watched his every move. You breathed in deeply as he slightly ran his lips over your skin, nuzzling it for just a second.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain electrify your entire arm.

You forgot how to breathe as your mind tried to fully understand what was happening. Damon’s delicate touch turned into full aggression as his mouth devoured the warm liquid in your veins. You watched him grasp your arm against his face in a violent manner as a small humming noise escaped from his drenched mouth. It vibrated against you while his teeth slid deeper in.

It was fascinating. Even the pain. As terrified as you felt, you couldn’t look away. In one soft motion, you felt your free hand place itself on the back of his neck. Damon's aggression had transformed itself in a type of vulnerability you couldn't explain.

Carefully stroking the baby hairs on his skin, you let him finish. Your delicate touch lulling him back to reality. 

Suddenly, he detached himself. Almost immediately after releasing, he leaned his had back in euphoria. You took a step back while he licked your excess blood from his lips, not quire sure of what he would do next.

“Y/n,” He breathed out. His expression hardened once more, the darkness around him intensifying like a cloud, “don’t ever ask me that to do that again.”

Damon reached his hand out, licking your blood off his middle finger, “Unless you want me to kill you.” 


	2. Class is in Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaric's surprise guest speaker brings you home for some studying, bourbon, and more ;)

You walked into Alaric’s classroom the next day with a cloud of shame hanging over you. Damon ran off – quite literally – after feeding on you, and you’d been cursing yourself since. _Why would I ever let him do that?_ The image of his arrogant expression and demeaning tone at the bar kept resurfacing in your head. You convinced yourself that feeling of safety he gave you was just a stupid vampire game.

After sluggishly taking a spare seat in the middle of the lecture hall, you glanced up at the board waiting to see what Alaric had planned for today. From his office, you heard what sounded like murmuring and shuffling papers before he finally emerged. It was 10 AM on the dot.

“Hi class,” he greeted while walking to the podium.

Alaric was more disheveled than usual, though it wasn’t exactly a bad look for him. He wore the same shirt as he did at the bar the previous night, though slightly more crinkled, and a heavy 5 o’clock shadow accentuated itself along his face. A half-hearted attempt had been made to comb his hair, but rogue strands were already starting to stick out. You smiled to yourself. Professor Saltzman was very hungover.

“Today we’re mixing some things up. We have a guest speaker.”

Half of the class groaned, while the other leaned forward in their seats, intrigued. Any expert on the supernatural was sure to be amusingly eccentric.

“He’s actually a personal friend who happens to be a big follower of the occult,” Alaric continued as he started scribbling on the board.

Your ears perked slightly.

“I didn’t know if he would make it, but he came into town a couple days ago and is somewhat of an amateur historian on mystical creatures – specifically,” he paused and underlined the word he’d just written in chalk, “vampires.”

Your heart sped up with every word. Please god no.

“Everyone, please welcome, Damon Salvatore.”

There he was. Leather jacket and all, coming out from Alaric’s office. Your ears went deaf as his perfectly shined shoes clicked against the linoleum floor while sauntering up to the podium.

“He’s so hot,” You heard a random voice whisper a couple rows behind you. If only they knew that he was _much more_ than just an expert. Maybe then his sharp jaw and perfect complexion wouldn’t mesmerize them so much.

“Well hello, my young pupils,” Damon said sarcastically to the class. He scanned the room, gauging his audience, while pausing to smirk at a couple of giggling sorority girls in the first row. You slumped down in your chair slightly, praying this was all a dream.

His eyes abruptly steadied at the middle of the room. Right in your direction.

“Who here believes in vampires?”

You didn’t dare look up, knowing he was just fucking with you. He had to have seen you. You were sure of it.

The class erupted in laughter, followed by more whispers behind you.

“No one? No one at all?” Damon started pacing around the room, obviously pleased with how funny he thought he was. “How about you?” He stopped in the middle once more. “Girl with her head down.”

You felt 82 bodies shift in their seats to face you. Finally, you looked up. Damon’s face pierced through the rows of seats in front of you. You took a breath.

“I believe every occult legend has an origin story, but no.” You stated, trying to keep your voice steady. Damon made no reaction. “But,” you continued, “from what I’ve read, they _do_ seem to be – excuse my language – huge assholes.” You flashed a tight-lipped smile in his direction. There was no reason you couldn’t beat him at his own game.

“Assholes, huh? Interesting...” Damon feigned thoughtfulness, playfully stroking his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Young lady, I might have to discuss this intriguing theory with you a little bit more. Please see me after class.”

His eyes stayed on you for small second longer, just to remind you of the secret you shared. Giving him a small smile back, you slumped back in your chair as he proceeded in a Q&A, not looking your way once.

* * *

“Alaric?” Your knock echoed through the now empty lecture hall. Waiting for his response, you did one last scan for Damon. After all, he was the one that made a big deal about meeting after class in front of everyone _._ Was he really going to disappear on you _again_ afterwards?

“Come on in, Y/N!” You heard Alaric say, tilting his head over from behind the door. Casually flipping a page of his book, he sank back in his office chair and propped his feet up on the end of the desk. He’d spent the entirety of the class nursing a thermos of what you could only assume to be coffee, and was already looking better.

You nudged against his chestnut loafers, causing his legs to collapse to the ground. “Thanks for telling me that dick from last night was going to be in class today.”

Alaric laughed, forced to put down his book and sit up straight.

“In my defense you weren’t supposed to have met him in a bar the night before,” he shrugged, “so it _kind of_ threw me off.”

You dropped your bag and plopped yourself down into the seat across from him, putting your feet up where his used to be.

“Believe it or not, he actually _does_ know what he’s talking about,” Alaric continued when you glared at him, “he asked to speak for a couple more classes, too.”

“When did he ask that?” You felt your voice twist into a more aggressive tone than you intended.

The pure thought of fucking _Damon_ singling you out every time you entered this classroom, for god knows how long. The image of his little smirk constantly blocking the board when you looked up. It all made your blood boil. You pictured walking in only to see thick hair perfectly tangled around his chiseled features, eyes constantly catching yours.

You felt yourself start to sweat.

Alaric seemed unfazed as he produced a mug from one of his desk drawers and unscrewed his thermos to fill it with a chestnut-colored liquid.

“Right after we dismissed, I think, he pushed the mug towards you, “how’s your paper coming, by the way?”

“Haven’t gotten too far,” you answered, “still a little tired from last night, to be honest…what’s this?”

“Sounds like someone was up to no good,” Alaric’s office chair creaked as leaned forward dramatically, his voice paralleling a valley girl fishing for gossip. “And _that_ , is the tea that has been keeping me sane. You should try it.”

“You never struck me as a tea drinker. I saw you as more of a black coffee guy,” You smiled at his gesture and peered into the mug. It was lukewarm but had an enticing floral scent to it. “So what type is it?

“It’s a special blend I drink every day. A literal lifesaver,” Alaric said, his lip slightly curling up, exposing a dimple on his left cheek.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, and took a hesitant sip. Your eyes met his as you peered over the rim of the mug. It was good. But the intense eye contact with your handsome professor was better. 

“I like it,” you said softly.

He cleared his throat, “Good. I’ll have to bring you some next class. Now go write that paper while I grade these shitty ones.”

Mind feeling a bit jumbled as you tried to process _whatever_ just happened, you shut his office door behind you. You actively switched topics in your mind, now frantically focusing on what the hell you were going to write your paper about.

“There’s my star student,” Damon’s voice echoed directly in front of you. His stance was calm but firm. The empty classroom looking like a blur behind his mesmerizing aroma.

You cleared your throat, trying quickly to think of something witty. “Spying again, Damon?”

He didn’t have to know you were looking for him for a full 20 minutes.

“I mean, I do like watching you,” Damon’s breath grazed against your ear as he taunted you with a grin, “which I’m sure you remember from last night.”

You stayed silent, trying to utilize any kind of willpower you had. A familiar surge of tingles raced up your spine as his smooth voice sung in your ear. You swallowed the shame, trying desperately to remind yourself of the endless bad parts about him.

He casually leaned back into his original stance, subtly releasing you from his presence. He proceeded to rest his arm on the side of the chalkboard, “But to be fair, I didn’t know you were into that kinky teacher/professor thing. That’s pretty hot.”

You rolled your eyes, and instinctively hit his arm with your bag. Squinting at him, you held in a reaction as he winced at your touch, pretending to be the victim as he dramatically clutched his arm in pain. Biting your tongue as hard as you could, you felt the laughter aching like an itch in your throat. 

“Okay, so, I’ve been thinking,” Damon continued, “Alaric needs you to write a paper about the occult, and I happen to know a guy who _is_ the occult.” He pointed at himself, clearly thinking he was clever. You lost focus for a second as his shoulder blades moved slowly under his black shirt.

You cocked your head, “Aren’t you the guy who told me he wanted to kill me last night? Or was that a different vampire?”

Damon let out a brief amused exhale, while his body slowly starting to circle around you, “I didn’t say I _wanted_ to kill you, I was implying that I _could_ kill you.” He stopped walking. “But let’s not get hung up on minor details, Y/N. The point is, I can help you.”

“But, why?” You forced yourself to look directly at him, a weakness you were quickly finding out you had.

“Why does there have to be a reason?” He arched his eyebrow, while his face stayed stale. There was definitely a reason - he just didn’t want to say it. 

“Fine,” You spat. Face to face with his smooth complexion, you suddenly found yourself in the same position as last night. The one with intense curiosity overpowering you, and the inability to form the word _no_. Not that you wanted to say it, anyway.

“Then let’s go,” Damon reached out his arm, head tilted in temptation.

You glanced at his eyes. They were somewhat hopeful within his cocky expression.

“After you, Mr. Salvatore.” You said. 

* * *

The fire burned in the ornate fireplace. You finally felt relaxed, sinking into your spot on the ruby sofa of the Salvatore House foyer. Damon sat next to you, at a surprisingly comfortable distance. Even through all his arrogance, he had actually helped you with your paper, giving you all the vampire information you could possibly want.

Looking outside, you suddenly noticed it was dark. The hours passed quickly as you were engulfed in the history of the occult. _Had you really been here all day?_

You tightened your grip on the crystal bourbon glass, realizing how much time had gone by. But as you snuck a peek at Damon, you didn’t feel quite as concerned. After today, you somehow felt more at ease around him. His demeanor was fascinating, and you didn’t want leave yet. So much so, you obliged to his suggestion for a drink. He said it would take the edge off of _Alaric’s irrelevant assignment_ , as he smugly put it.

You took another sip of the bitter liquid, squeezing your eyes shut as it burnt your throat. Damon chuckled at your effort, his mischievous grin making an appearance.

“Give me that.” He said, as plucked the glass out of your hand, putting it behind him. You were now sitting across from him, feeling bare and empty handed. A breath of nervousness filled your lungs, as you realized your vulnerability.

Damon inched closer on the antique sofa, his face analyzing yours.

“I can compel you to not be afraid,” he said softly, acknowledging your discomfort.

Your eyes widened at his words. His face had turned to a calmness you’ve only seen once. In that moment, something about him felt tragically genuine.

Holding your breath, you slowly placed your hand on his knee, “I’m not afraid.”

Your voice shook despite your words. You could feel the warmth from his body radiate onto your palm. His cologne engulfed you more with every movement he made as he drew ever closer.

“Yes you are, Y/N.” Damon stroked your hair behind your ear, perfectly replicating the other night at the bar, “but I think you like being afraid.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his candidness. You mind was frozen, and yet all you wanted was for him to continue. Anything he wanted, you wanted. He was safe. You were his in this very moment.

Damon leaned forward slightly, barely touching his lips against your neck, testing your reaction. You stayed perfectly still, feeling your chest clench as breath pricked your skin.

“Tell me to stop…” He whispered. You didn’t. Perhaps it was stupid to push back the fear of this reality—of the 200 year old predator grazing his lips on your neck—but you wanted more.

He continued his movement, kissing it harder. His muscular hand reached around your head, pulling you into him more.

“Tell me to stop,” he said again. His voice was muffled against you, hidden in between lustful exhales. You felt your body tense and relax again. Tense and relax. His closeness made you throb, as if your entire body had become a beating heart. Your breathing slowed as you sank into the risk of his touch.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you said quietly, finally allowing your emotions to take hold.

Damon looked up in yearning, his eyes full of desire and curiosity. You bit your lip as you felt his hand leave your head, reaching over back across the front your face. His thumb carefully rubbed across your bottom lip for just a second, studying would it would be like to finally experience you.

Swiftly, you felt his lips engulf yours, gently sucking on the pink skin he had just admired. Sliding his tongue into you, you put his arms behind his back, climbing up onto his lap. He let out a small growl feeling you straddle him, his hand slithering up your thigh, clenching your skin in pulsating movements.

You leaned your head back, allowing him to work his way down in a kind of sexual hunger you had never felt before. You felt your body tighten as his breath hovered over your chest, hands now grasped so firmly around your waist you were sure you would bruise.

You tilted your head down slightly, letting the anticipation of what he might do override you. Watching his hand aggressively tugging your shirt from out of your skirt, you flinched at the first feel of his touch.

He smiled sinisterly, feeling your innocent reaction; eyes kept solely on your chest. A shiver ran up your torso as he worked his hand upward.

He finally glanced up, a devilish look in his eye. You knew he could feel your breathing quicken.

“You like it when I touch you there?” He said softly, a daring look in his eye. You knew he wanted you to fully give into him. He was still playing with you, knowing there was a part of you that was terrified, but wanting you to finally admit it. Let him know he won.

You wanted to answer, but nothing came out. You swallowed rapidly as he held your gaze, eagerly awaiting your response as he reached the bottom of your bra. You felt your thighs clench as he barely ran his thumb across the lace.

Damon paused, biting his lip, “Tell me you like it.” He demanded.

You stared down at him. His eyes blue and intoxicating. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. The feeling of his legs pinned down by yours filling you with heat.

“I fucking love it.” You said back. 

Damon’s eyes flickered, their obsession with you growing by the second. You curled your lips into a small smile, sinking down even more into his lap. You knew he liked it when you gave in. His reaction almost felt as good as his warm body pressed up against yours.

“Damon?” A voice echoed from behind you. Your head darted towards the sound, snapping you back into reality.

“Perfect timing, brother,” Damon grunted, slowly sliding you off of him.

A tall calming presence appeared in your peripheral vision. You quickly looked away, shoving your shirt back into your skirt. You kept your head down, feeling the heat in your cheeks burn harder by the second.

“See what you did, Stef? You got her all embarrassed,” Damon made a dramatic disapproving click with his tongue, obviously not rattled at all about the situation. You continued to fix yourself, even though nothing else was out of place. _How the fuck do I get out of here?_

Damon let out a tired sigh, “Y/N, this is my baby brother, Stefan. He was just leaving.”

“Um, hi.” Stefan said, his strong voice coming closer. You slightly raised your head up, giving him a tight-lipped nod.

“Are you ok?”

You watched Stefan’s eyes slowly drift down to your chest. You felt he was the only stable thing to cross through the threshold of the house.

“Yes…” You murmured, confused about what he meant. His eyes traced the places Damon had just kissed, leaving you more uncomfortable than before.

Then you felt it. You reached your hand slowly up to your neck, a sharp pain suddenly making itself known, puncturing your entire upper half. You stopped, frozen in time. A warm liquid slithered against your fingers.

“What the…” Your eyes darted. Your fingers grazed against two small holes, oozing with substance.

And then you saw it. Blood everywhere. Delicately dripping down your white blouse, leaving a waterfall of red. Damon had done much more than kiss you.

He had fed on you.


	3. After Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting out of the Salvatore house, you go to the only person who will know what to do...

Your car slowed to a rumble then cracked to a halt on the deserted campus parking lot. You squeezed your eyes shut. The image of you frantically pushing past Damon’s brother, Stefan, and his efforts to help you, feeling like a blur. The only picture remaining was Damon’s eyes stalking you from the doorway.

You watched as they faded away in the rear view, along with the stoic Salvatore house quietly disappearing with him. It all happened so fast.

Except for the pain. It still lingered on your neck, throbbing in long pulsating beats, happily reminding you it was there.

You forced yourself to look down, checking to see how much you need to clean off yourself. The bright red that soaked your shirt now had a tint of brown. The residue on your neck followed suit as it hardened into a soft crust.

You closed your eyes again. _Just breathe._

Undoing your seatbelt, you quickly got out of your car and walked into the building, refusing to let yourself turn back. You needed to tell someone what you had just gotten yourself into.

You thought you had it under control, but you were very wrong. The lecture hall you walked out of with _you-know-who_ just hours earlier, seemed to be laughing at you as you walked towards it. You shook your head, too focused to let anything else fuck with you right now. 

_Alaric will know what to do_ , you reminded yourself, yanking on the back door of his office’s hallway. Darkness loomed in the narrow entrance as you stepped in, watching you with judgmental eyes.

Swallowing a lump of anxiety, you continued forward. _He teaches this shit. He’ll understand._

“Alaric.” You said firmly, opening his office door without permission. After the day you had, you were past the point of being polite.

Alaric looked up from an even bigger stack of papers than earlier in the day with a confused and startled expression. His office was almost completely dark, except for one dingy lamp only glowing enough to softly illuminate the work he was grading.

“Uh, hi?” You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to piece together why you were here so late. His eyes immediately fixated on the dried blood painted on your skin. His mouth stayed open, but no words came out.

“I know about Damon. I know about everything. I fucked up, Ric,” You sputtered, every sentence muffled in between hyperventilating breaths. Tears formed at the inner corners of your eye, while anger tore at your insides. It raced through your veins like boiling heat.

“Okay,” Alaric slowly stood up from his chair, his expression now falling overly calm. His eyes softened at you, “Let’s just calm down for a second.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. Alaric paused for a moment, “Did he compel you to do something? Because I put vervain in the tea I gave you this morning. He couldn’t have,” he added when you stayed silent.

You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Refusing to see any kind of judgement you hadn’t already felt yourself. “He didn’t have to.”

A couple tears pushed their way out, sliding down your face without consent. You quickly wiped them away, embarrassed about your vulnerability, about Damon, about everything. You had gotten yourself in too deep.

Alaric stood in front of you, slightly bending down to meet your eyeline. His hand cautiously found its way onto your shoulder, softly squeezing it.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said.

His voice charmed your ear in a soothing tone you’d never heard from him before. He kept his gaze with yours, his eyes easing you with every second, letting you know you could trust him.

“Now,” Alaric took his original stance, walking back over to his desk. Your breathing slowed as you watched him crouch down to the bottom drawer, rustling around for something. Standing back up, he emerged with a half-filled bottle of bourbon and two cheap glasses, “start from the beginning.”

* * *

At almost 2:30 in the morning, it had become very clear this was shaping up to be one of the longest days of your life. You glanced over to the empty bourbon bottle, knocked over on Alaric’s desk. Your vision blurred as you squinted to see if there was any more left…an indication you were definitely hammered.

Alaric had heard the entire story at this point. He sat quietly, refilling your drink, as you spilled every shameful detail that happened since you took your first step into that bar just a mere 24 hours ago. 

He knew everything now. He knew that you willingly let Damon drink from your wrist. He knew that you spent the entire day there. And he knew that Damon had somehow snuck his teeth into your neck without you even realizing it.

But there was _one_ thing he didn’t know – why you were so god damn afraid.

It was because you were scared you liked it. 

You reached over to grab your phone, slipping abruptly off the chair, but sloppily catching yourself. “Oops…” You giggled, glancing up at Alaric. He let out a giddy exhale, snickering with you in his spot beside you.

You somehow didn’t care that you were making a complete drunken fool out of yourself. Although, you did kind of wish Alaric had a lower tolerance. Maybe then he wouldn’t be able to catch every inebriated peek you were taking at him.

“Listen Y/N,” he interrupted, looking up. You sat up a little, still chuckling at your own clumsiness. He leaned forward, playfully waving his hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention.

“I think you should stay away from Damon.” He stated, running his fingers lazily through his thick hair. You furrowed your eyebrows, sitting up a bit while hearing his words. 

“And I’m not just saying this because I’m older than you, or because I’m your professor or whatever…” You followed his movements as he glanced down to the ground, trailing off for a second, “I just want you to be safe.” He finally said, meeting your eyeline. 

You softened into a smile, “I’ll be fine. I just need to be more careful next time, I guess.”

“So you’re still going to see him?” Alaric asked incredulously. You glanced away.

His genuine expression _did_ make you feel better. You couldn’t deny the comfort Alaric gave you, just knowing that through all your stupid decisions he was still looking out for you. Still on your side.

But you couldn’t ignore that twang of defense that rose in your chest when he spoke ill of Damon.

You gathered yourself. It was obvious you were being neurotic. But you couldn’t just _never_ see Damon again. That realization was becoming more and more clear. 

You gathered a quick rebuttal. “But he’s your _friend_ , Alaric. If he’s your friend then doesn’t that mean he’s redeemable?”

“It’s not that,” he sighed, “I just don’t like the idea of him feeding on you.”

“Neither do I,” you lied, “But maybe this was just an accident. Maybe he just got caught up in the moment.”

Alaric shook his head, turning his whole body towards you. His defined shoulders stood stable, making him look more masculine than you had ever noticed before. You cleared your throat awkwardly, as he caught your eye wandering.

“Look at you,” he continued, putting his hand on yours. You blinked at his surprising gesture, never actually been touched by him before. Despite your friendliness outside the classroom, it had always been kind of a silent rule between you two. “You are smart, funny,” he paused for a second, “And beautiful.” His eyes penetrated you, “You don’t need to be treated like that.”

You finally let yourself look at him. Like _really_ look at him. His demeanor was so serious. It was different than when Damon looked at you. Less devastation, less hunger. More understanding. 

You stayed still as the ruggedness of his hands smoothed across your palm in small motions. A callus on his left finger gently scratched against you as he searched your face for a response.

The heat of his body radiated off of his soft button down. Your hand sat still relaxed in his palms. The buzzing lamp was the only thing heard in the background, delicately breaking the stale silence that engulfed the small room.

You felt that even if you sat there for hours he wouldn’t move. Just wanting to stare at you. Wanting to savor this moment.

And then your whiskey-filled body gave you a notion you never knew you had.

You let your eyes drift down to his lips. He watched as your curious gaze showed him what you wanted to do. He exhaled deeply, and you felt your thighs clench at the sight of his chiseled, stubble covered jaw.

Leaning in slightly, you daintily touched your lips against his. Your hand following your spontaneity, sliding itself around the bareness of his neck.

He stayed there for a second, a gentle murmur escaping from him at the realization of what was happening. You could tell his body was stuck, figuring out how to react to the very dangerous line that was officially being crossed.

“Y/N,” he pulled away barely, forehead pressed against yours, “we really shouldn’t.” You kissed him again before he could talk, your lips parting his, showing him what he could have.

“I want to,” He stopped you again, his breath quickening like his hormones, “but this isn’t right. Not like this at least.”

You let out a small taunting grin, wanting to continue to feel whatever Alaric had just made you feel in the past 5 minutes. You wanted to feel that compassion. All over your body.

“C’mon, we’re both adults. I’m not just your student.”

Your faces still stood inches apart, a closeness you never thought you would experience with him. Your stomach grew tingly as his _teacher-like_ cologne, desperately intrigued you.

Alaric moved his hand onto your thigh, slightly rubbing it back and forth. Your eyes grew more seductive by the second. He finally whispered, “We still can’t tell anyone.”

You grinned, biting your lip in relief. He let out a small nervous laugh, trying to find the words he wanted to say.

But then his hands tightly cupped your face. His right one making its way down to your chin, innocently holding it up as he lightly pressed his lips against yours. Your knees weakened slightly at the feel of his perfected kiss. He definitely knew what he was doing.

Your back arched as his grip remained on you, tasting drops of bourbon in his mouth. He continued to press harder, matching your intensity. You stayed at his pace, breath quickening at every slight break.

Feeling his hand start to graze against your waistline, you scooted closer to him, tugging slightly on the bottom of his shirt in return. Your index and middle finger clasped the soft linen in between them, sliding their way up and down slowly.

About to undo the rest of his buttons, you felt his arm swiftly wrap around your waist, hoisting you up onto the hard surface of his desk. Mouth now on your neck, he tossed a multitude of papers to the ground in one sweeping motion, making space to put you wherever he wanted. You felt your eyes roll back, relishing in how wrong this was.

Alaric gripped your legs, fastening them around his waist. Scooting closer to him, you squeezed your thighs lightly against his sides in anticipation.

Underneath your kiss, you felt him somewhat smile at the motion. Grinning back, you opened your eyes eagerly to take a better look at his reaction.

But you didn’t see him. You saw Damon.

You froze, abruptly leaning back. Alaric jerked up, leaving your lips as you separated from him.

You blinked your eyes shut. _This isn’t Damon. This is Alaric. It’s not Damon. It’s not Damon._

“Are you ok?” Alaric reached his hand out towards you. You flinched before he could touch you again. Everything seemed wrong all of a sudden. _What is happening to me?_

“Um,” you searched the room for the door, almost forgetting where it was. Alaric’s expression turned confused in the corner of your eye, as he tensely ran his fingers through his hair, not knowing what to do.

“I just…” Your mind went blank. All you could see was Damon’s face. His smirky expression mocking your attempt to search for words to spit out. You shut your eyes, but he was still there.

You felt nauseous trying to shake him. His beautiful pale skin like a velvety drape in your mind.

Alaric cleared his throat, rustling as he sat up straighter in his chair. Tension cornered you two in a bubble. The walls felt as if they were closing in in Alaric’s tiny office.

“You were right. We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say, not believing your own words. You were ready to say anything right now. Just to get out of here and figure out what the fuck was happening to you.

He titled his head at your lie, giving a slight uncomfortable expression. He was so confused. So were you.

You shook your head, standing up from your chair, “I’m sorry.” Knees jolting as you got on your feet, you suddenly were reminded how drunk you were.

Pushing past the haziness forming at the side of your eyes, your feet stammered against the concrete. “Y/N, you shouldn’t drive,” you heard Alaric’s voice say, feeling much more distant than where he actually was.

But you kept moving, trying to slid your bag over your shoulder as gracefully as you could. You wouldn’t dare to look at his face. His sorely defeated face. So much different than Damon’s devilish one. Glaring at you from your insides.

Reaching for the door, you stopped for a second, trying to keep yourself together. However, the warm liquid churning inside of you had other plans. Your face went pale as you registered that familiar feeling.

Alaric’s arm suddenly reached in front of you, throwing you a black bin. The vomit poured out of you in aggressive bursts. Your eyes drooped at the corners, as you fuzzily emptied yourself into the can.

Looking up, you tried to stay on your feet, wanting to be out of this moment. But the once steady office in front of you was now spinning in circles. The world falling dark with it.

* * *

A cold material brushed against your cheek. Familiar scents gently wafted into your nose, working its way lustfully through your body.

You felt your eyes crack open slightly. You glanced around for just a moment, only able to focus on what was in front of you. Everything else was still faded into a daze.

You were in your living room, making your way up your staircase. You immediately felt a wave of relief, realizing you finally made it back to your apartment after everything. The sound of boots clicking on the wooden steps started to lull your body in a comforting tempo.

But wait. You opened your eyes a little wider. You weren’t moving. Someone else was.

Hazily twisting your head over, you saw a man. He was carrying you. Your legs draped around his right forearm, his arms wrapped tightly around your body.

It was Damon.

You barely moved, still feeling the effects of the bourbon. The room continued to dance around you, letting you know you were probably going to pass out again.

But you tried to focus on his face. It seemed calm. Restful. Focused.

Closing your eyes once more, you felt yourself being placed into bed. The covers tucked themselves neatly over your face, making sure you were to stay warm. Your head positioned perfectly on your pillow. You smiled to yourself as its shape formed around your aching head.

But there was something unfamiliar. The feeling of leather wrapped around you, gently caressing you to sleep.


	4. Easy A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After days of not hearing from Damon, you find him in your apartment...

It had been two days. And nothing.

You were in a state of utter confusion. Every time you closed your eyes you saw something else - a blurry snippet from a different moment of one of the mortifying sequence of events that had occurred.

You shook your head at the thought. Two whole days and not a word from either of them.

Feet shuffling below you, you glanced up at the trees towering above as you walked back from campus. The fall air cut your cheek as the sky fell purple, softening into a deeper haze. You listened as the dead leaves crunched underneath your shoes with every step.

But then it happened again. Your mind recalled the events once more, making you relive the scattered moments.

However this time, your mind recalled the morning a couple days ago. You were waking up. No explanation, no answers. Just you, an empty bed, and the lingering scent of a warm cologne soaked on your sheets. A sharp hangover pained you slightly.

You took a breath, wanting to scratch your head at the one notion you couldn’t shake. A blurry vision sputtered in your mind, leaving you with the same darkened image over and over again.

Damon. Carrying you. Tucking you in. Stroking your arm.

 _It couldn’t have been him_ , you thought as you turned the corner. Your nose perked up at the mere thought, reminding you of the familiar aroma that was left for you when you woke. Damon’s scent.

Finally you reached your apartment building. Wrestling with your keys as you hoisted yourself inside, the denial fought with your memory inside of you. But you couldn’t deny the disappointment that had ached in you the past two days. You wanted it to be Damon.

Making your way up, the doorknob to your bedroom twisted at your touch. You dropped your keys. There he was.

His back was turned to you. You froze as you watched his dominating presence, swallowing up your room. One hand was placed on your window casing, while his body weighed against it, gazing out the window.

“Damon.” You said alarmed.

He didn’t move. Your legs felt paralyzed, like a scared animal who was waiting for their predator to flinch.

His body stayed still, as your eyes steadied. The light perfectly illuminated his intense figure, softly highlighting every mesmerizing feature. You swallowed hard at the image.

He cocked his head, “So you’re avoiding me.”

Your eyes flickered at his words, not sure how to respond. He slowly turned, arrogantly carrying out the silence.

You cleared your throat, “What are you talking about?”

He tilted is head, giving you a knowing look, “You really want to play this game, Y/N?”

Your eyes jolted to the side. Heart pounding, you still couldn’t bare to look at him. The denial and frustration tickled your insides at the confirmation of the blurry loop that had been playing in your mind.

He took a step forward, eyes burning into you. With every ounce of strength, you kept your gaze distracted from him as his amusement radiated onto your skin like a harsh spotlight.

“I mean I can’t deny I’m a little impressed with myself,” He paused smugly, “I _told you_ you were into that kinky professor/student thing.”

A waft of air suddenly hit you in the face, your tendrils flying backward. A small gasp escaped your throat as Damon’s figure was suddenly right in front of you, inches away.

“Or maybe I’m just a little jealous.” He smirked.

Your eyes darted, finally meeting his. His snarky demeanor washing almost away any ounce of gratitude you had for him. Almost.

“I guess it makes sense why you skipped class the past 2 days,” His stance kept firm as you took a deep breath, “But tell me…” he paused, “was it because of me or _him_?”

“I….” You tried to accumulate any words to come out of your mouth, but his presence dominated you into a sputter.

He scoffed playfully, acknowledging your pathetic effort to resist him, “That means you can thank me for the other night whenever.”

A soft silence filled the room. Your throat burned as you struggled for any sort of response to say back at him. But his eyes. You studied them. They were so intoxicating as they danced on your skin, glazing over every detail of your face.

“I think I need to stay away from you.” You heard yourself say softly. Whatever right mind you had left made the decision for you.

He continued to keep his stance, unfazed by your words. You held your breath as you waited for a reaction, regretting your response more with each second that passed by.

A rush of vibration suddenly emerged from your pocket. Jolted back into reality, you released yourself from Damon’s intoxication. Fumbling around, you fished your phone from your coat, tapping on the glowing screen.

Alaric was calling. _Fuck._

You glanced back up as your thumb hovered over the ignore button.

“Answer it.” Damon said. You furrowed your eyebrows at his demand, unable to unmask if he sincerely cared or not. Your mind fell slightly disappointed at the thought.

“Hello?” You said, holding the phone up to your ear. Damon took a step back, collapsing on your bed. He casually threw his hands behind his head, propping himself up for the entertainment.

“Hey, it’s me,” he paused, “I’m sorry…I haven’t called.” Biting your tongue inside your mouth you tried to put on your best poker face, not wanting to give away any reaction of Alaric’s faint and nervous voice.

But then you realized the obvious. Damon had vamp hearing - he even taught you that himself.

“It’s fine.” You said neutrally, keeping tabs on him in your peripheral vision, prepared for a reaction.

“It’s really not,” Alaric took a deep breath, “I just haven’t known what to say…” He trailed off for a second, struggling to find the right words.

You took a small step away from Damon’s vicinity, slightly turning your body away, “I should’ve been the one to take you home.” He finally stated.

Your eyes widened at his words. It _was_ Damon.

Glancing over your shoulder you checked to see if he moved. You slid your phone tighter to your face, hoping to muffle some of the conversation, “I don’t think I can talk about this now.” You cursed yourself as you felt your voice start to slightly shake.

“Want me to talk to him?” Damon’s voice hummed in your ear suddenly. Rapidly turning your head, you stood face to face with him once more.

“I have to go.” You quickly sputtered, exhaling softly. Damon’s lips curled slightly at the corners at your nervousness.

Alaric paused briefly, “He’s there isn’t he?” he said softly. The guilt spread over your body, “I really have to go.” The phone dimmed as you clicked end.

You turned around, “I thought it was you last night,” You said nervously, “b-but I wasn’t sure.”

He took a step a little too close, “Oh, so you’ve been thinking about it?”

You felt you body sway back a bit at his movement, “Well, yeah,” he took another step closer, “I wasn’t sure how I got home.”

Now inches away, peering onto you, he grinned, “Were you _hoping_ it was me?”

Gravity shook for a second, leaving you tripping slightly on your own feet as he leaned in with his words. Before any response, you saw his eyes fixate, growing hungry slowly with every passing second.

Your body went numb, feeling exposed.

“Let me have you.” Damon said.

Your body stayed still at his words, frozen in time. You wanted to give him something, but it was too mesmerizing as his breath skimmed you like a lustful breeze.

Keeping his gaze steady, it was clear he was waiting for you to speak next. You felt your mouth open slightly, a gentle murmur escaping, but no words formed.

He lifted his right hand, placing it on the softness of your cheek. You felt your head relax into his touch for just a moment before his grip tightened into a firm pulsating motion.

“Damon…” The sentence shook from under you, leaving you as a shiver climbed up your body. His intensity was borderline frightening, and yet too exhilarating to ever let him stop.

“Don’t talk.” He stated. His hand gripped tighter, somehow letting you know you were safe. You didn’t dare move. It already felt so good. 

Damon’s head slowly started to move in. You winced with anticipation as his familiar aroma circulated, oozing onto your face as you inhaled its calming scent deeply.

“You’re going to do what I say.” His voice cut the room. Your eyes closed briefly at his words, anxiously ready for him to take control. Damon’s hand placed itself onto your hip bone, his thumb scraping against it firmly. You bit your lip at the motion, wanting him to go down further to the place that was starting to softly ache.

The hairs on your arms pricked upward as he continued to brush his silky hands across your collarbone, delicately sliding your hair behind your neck. His eyes finally drifted away from yours, analyzing your body for his next fixation.

In a small movement, Damon spun you around, leaving your backside pressed tightly against him. A small gasp escaped your lips as you registered the abrupt change of position, feeling his body growing against you. 

“Sh…” Damon whispered as his lips grazed against the back of your ear at your reaction, “Just relax.”

You felt yourself clench at his words while the heat intensified in the pit of your stomach into a burning want. His cheek slightly grew against your neck as you felt his devilish smirk emerge from behind you. The soft sensation of his lips on your skin followed soon after, along with a light hum. 

“Fuck…” You heard yourself say, as your mind unraveled at his intoxicating touch.

He flinched slightly at your failed attempt to follow his instructions. 

But his mouth continued, easing its way along the nape of your neck. You felt yourself sink back gently, mesmerized by his warmth tickling your skin.

But then the air changed. His hand slowly worked its way down, sliding down the front of your torso as your back stayed still against his stance. You held your breath as you felt his fingers reach towards your pants, tucking themselves beneath your waistline, grazing the sensitive skin beneath.

Damon’s hand rustled slightly before climbing underneath fully, reaching your moist core, causing you to wince at the touch.

“Is this all for me?” He asked condescendingly, stretching his fingers more into the wetness. Your breath escaped at his words, unable to stay silent at the enticement of his teasing.

He smiled slyly at your innocent reaction, not letting up on his touch. You felt your toes curl on the wood floor as his circular motions sent a sense of euphoria up your body.

Damon’s fingers kept in place as he managed to tighten you even closer to him with his other hand. His voice whispered deep in your ear, “I bet _Alaric_ didn’t get to do this.”

Before you could conjure up any kind of response, he slid his hand back up, flipping you around to face him. Your head titled down away from him as your body continued to pulsate from his touch.

Two of his fingers gently placed themselves under your chin, slowly picking your head back up to meet his eyeline. The world fell quiet for moment.

“Fuck,” Damon said, biting his bottom lip, “you’re so beautiful.” A warmth surrounded your face as his hand cupped it, finally merging your lips with his. Your body sank into his grasp in relief at the feeling of his kiss.

You pressed deeper into his mouth, wrapping both arms around his neck, wanting him as close as possible. As you slid your fingers beneath his black shirt, your breathing grew faster at the flex of his shoulder blades. His soft lips perfectly engulfed yours, leading you with every movement in a growing heat.

Damon took a step forward, causing you to walk backwards. Your lips didn’t dare part from his as his hand kept your chin stable. You tangled your fingers in his hair, stroking the back of his neck while letting his head arch further into you. 

Suddenly, you felt the back of your legs hit the side of your bed. You separated him from a second, looking over your shoulder.

“Sit.” He stated firmly.

You didn’t ask questions - the lust controlling you more than the fear.

He watched closely as you lowered your body to the comforter. You sat directly in front of him, arching your head up at his figure. He hovered stoically in front of you like a dangerous statue.

Slowly he grabbed your hand, placing it just above his belt buckle. You could feel his amusement radiating from above you, curious to see how you would react. 

But there was no more thinking. Just pure want.

You grabbed hold of the bottom of his shirt, tugging it out from his waistline. Damon cocked his head, “What, you’re not gonna rip it off of me?” He playfully teased.

You grinned at the irony, “This is John Varvatos, Damon.” His smirk grew intensely at your memory, “show some respect.” You said.

He bit his lip as an intense smile grew on his face at your stupid joke.

But your attention drifted back down. Your aching body luring you back into desire.

His black and silver belt flashed against the side table lamp. He reached for the bottom of his shirt, taking it off himself. You then undid the buckle delicately, feeling a portion of his hard presence under your palm.

Damon placed his hand behind your head, gently caressing your hair in preparation. Pulling his jeans down, you were now face to face with his briefs. Your mouth starting to water at the growing bulge inside of them.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips softly against his pelvis. A small murmur escaped from his lips as his head titled slightly at your movement.

Reaching underneath, you took him in your mouth. He slid into you with ease, while a deep moan echoed in your ear. You grabbed hold of his base tightly, sucking back and forth with intense craving. His grip tightened on your hair as he felt you engulf him. 

You felt the want grow within as his hips leaned into you, urging you to take him deeper. His sighs emerged above you, as he leaned his head back reveling in the sensation.

“Come here.” He suddenly said, sliding out of you. You looked up at him innocently, eager to comply to whatever he wanted.

Damon reached his arm out, pushing your upper half down on the bed. Your stomach fluttered as his body loomed over you. Your hands ran themselves over his chiseled features as he lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your chest fully.

With hunger growing in his eyes, he titled down onto you, sucking warmly on each nipple. Your neck arched at the sensation as you started to feel small sharp teeth grazing against you. The room felt hot as he continued, muffling himself into you intensely. Soft growls escaped in between.

Damon reached his hand down, sliding your pants off simultaneously. Your hips responded to the bareness, tilting towards him slightly in longing for what you really needed.

He stopped for a second, looking down at your fully exposed body underneath him, “You’re not going to cum until I say.”

His eyes flickered in a kind of hypnosis. A sense of knowing surged through your body, suddenly believing his statement with every fiber of your being. 

The words echoed through your mind: _I am not going to cum until Damon says so._

You nodded at his compulsion. His lips curled into a small grin, “Good girl.”

The sense of need rushed over you completely as he then slid his middle finger into his mouth. Your body throbbed as he ran it across your naked torso. The wetness from his mouth slithered against your skin in a downward motion. Finally it was in you. 

Chest tightening, you moaned at his warmth slowly moving in and out of you. He stayed above you, watching your every expression with sultry eyes.

The sensation ran up your body in a pulsating motion. You felt a rapid rush of tingles jolt your body, getting you ready to finally release yourself. Damon noticed your increased reaction.

“Not yet.” He stated calmly. Your body relaxed once more, although even more out of breath now with the sudden stop of your surge of feelings.

Taking his finger out, he grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart. He shifted, putting his hand on your neck to keep you still. Your core clenched and released furiously at the desperation of what was to come.

Picking your legs up, he wrapped them around his smooth torso, finally putting himself inside. A large moan emerged from the feeling of his strong presence inside you. He arched his hips further, causing himself to slide even deeper in. Your eyes rolled back at his hard cock encompassing every inch of you.

He cupped your neck, lifting your body up towards him slightly. Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment feeling him even more now, while his hips rocked back and forth.

Eyes opening once more, his face was fixated on yours, so obsessed with your body intertwined with his. He continued to surge into you, squeezing the back of your head passionately.

Suddenly he stopped, pulling out for a brief second. You stayed put allowing him to take over, as he lifted you up in a change of position. You were now on top of him.

Hands clasped at your waist, he pushed you down into him once more. You rocked your hips up as he firmly guided you the way he wanted. Warmth crept up on your neck as his mouth swallowed your skin, arching your back in response.

Damon continued working on your neck as you sank up and down into him. Your mind was collapsing, fluttering around in a lust you had never felt before.

“Bite me.” You said.

Damon took his lips off you, cocking his head to the side, “What?”

You stared at him, showing him your desire. It had overwhelmed you. His reaction turned devilish, like a hunter finally catching it’s prey.

Damon pressed his head lightly against your neck. You leaned into him as a tiny pain jolted your body, slowly breaking the soft skin. Warm liquid trickled down your neck onto your chest, causing your core to pulsate at its seductive heat.

He groaned into you, sucking deeply into the veins beneath his teeth. The pain spurred you on, giving your body an electrifying throb that you didn’t want to end.

Damon released, leaning back with heavy breaths. You watched as his fingers grazed themselves against the two oozing holes, admiring his work.

Slowly, he caught your gaze, lifting his bloody fingers up to your mouth, “Taste it.” He said with a seductive grin.

Without thinking you took hold of his hand, sliding two of his stained fingers into your mouth. You felt his presence throb harder inside of you as you sucked off the coppery essence.

He exhaled, while his eyes grew wide at your compliance, “That’s my good girl.” 

Your hips arched towards him in desire, speeding up as he smeared the remainder of blood along your chest. His wet tongue followed, slithering up your skin licking off the excess.

The aching built at his touch, wanting to make you beg for him to finish you. His growls continued, pushing you deeper and deeper with every thrust. You threw your head forward, making him look at you as the moans scratched your throat.

His blue eyes fixated, “Cum for me.” He demanded.

In one motion, your body finally released itself. Your core clenched against him furiously as the vibrations surged your lower half.

“That’s it, baby…” Damon whispered, holding your body in place as your legs trembled. The moans showered the room, leaving you relieved with every fiber of your being.

You wrapped your arms around him, catching your breath as the pulsating slowed. The cold metal of his blue daylight ring ran across the bare of your back in comforting motions. You felt your body completely relax as he held you, while you eased yourself.

Sitting there for a second, the room fell soft once more while you let his scent fill your nose.

“Well,” Damon said pausing slightly, “I hope that was sufficient research for your paper.” He grinned.


End file.
